It Was the Worst of Times

It was a good day.

Rarity had learned in the past two months that her days more often than not fell into one of two categories: “good” days or “bad” bad. There were also, at an alarmingly growing rate, more and more “nothing” days—days where she felt nothing at all, good or bad. Those were the ones she dreaded the most. She actually preferred to be bitter and angry or broken and sad than total apathy; at least when she felt any of those other emotions, she had proof that she was still alive.

Today, however, was a “good” day. She’d woken up feeling content, even energetic, and had enjoyed having breakfast with her kids and sending them off to school. She had surprised Applejack by pulling the other mare into a spontaneous kiss when she announced her usual departing to the fields, and even managed not to feel overly hurt by the cautious hope in the other mare’s eyes, especially when she smiled at her adoringly before going out the door.

Her good spirits continued as she cleaned the kids’ rooms, picking up dolls and blocks and stuffed animals and rearranging Topaz’s tossed-aside bedspread, smiling at how much their eldest child resembled her mother. She hummed a soft tune to herself as she worked, so lost in her task that she didn’t even hear Granny Smith come up behind her, holding Jasper to her chest.

“Someone’s hungry,” she mused. Rarity jumped a little and turned around to see Jasper cooing for her, a big, gummy smile on his lips. She laughed, reaching for her son.

“Well luckily I can help with that,” she cooed back, sifting her lips across the foal’s soft head and nuzzling his cheek. “You hungry, sweetheart? You need some yummy milk?”

She sat on Topaz’s bed, and as she began to undo her silk robe, Granny Smith came and sat beside her.

“He’s getting so big,” she remarked, staring lovingly at her great-grandson. Oh the blessings of living long enough to be around three whole generations of foals.

“Always hungry, it seems.” Rarity laughed.

“Well he’s a growing colt,” Granny Smith murmured adoringly. “Can you believe he’s eight months already?”

Rarity nodded in acknowledgment. “I know. It’s incredible how fast time travels.”

There was a lull in the conversation, and for a moment, Granny Smith just watched her granddaughter-in-law. Her heart ached at the sight of her nursing her foal, her besotted expression. She looked so happy at that moment that Granny Smith almost chickened out about broaching the subject she’d been planning on raising with her for a few days now. Ultimately though, she knew it had to be done. She took a deep breath, and made sure to keep her voice gentle and free of censure.

“Sweetheart… I’ve been meaning to ask. Is everything… okay? With you and Applejack?”

Rarity glanced up at her, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Granny swallowed roughly. She knew she was treading dangerous waters here, and Rarity seemed to be in such good spirits today that she didn’t want to ruin it. But at the same time, she knew that if she didn’t do it now, while the other mare was in good spirits, it would never get discussed.

“I’m not blind, youngin’. I was married twice, once for over forty years. I know there’s tension between you two.”

Instantly, Rarity’s expression became shuttered. She seemed to retreat back inside herself a bit, clutching Jasper to her a bit more tightly in an unconscious effort of self-protection. Shame seeped forward from every pore in her body, but she didn’t bother deny the charge. Sighing in empathy, Granny reached forward and stroked her foreleg.

“I ain’t criticizin’ you.  I know how hard it’s been since the baby. And you know sometimes mares have miscarriages… there are hormones. It’s biological. Ya can’t control it. Ain’t a reason to feel ashamed.”

It was a long time before Rarity could speak and when she did, her tone was thick. “I… I know,” she admitted gruffly. “I just… I can’t explain it. One moment I just want to take her into my arms and hold her forever and then others I just feel so… I don’t know… and… I get so angry and I… I can’t even look at her.”

“Rarity,” Granny Smith interjected softly, “all this? What y’all are saying to me now? You need to be sayin’ it to her. She’s scared, and she’s confused, and all she wants is to be there for you and for you to be honest about what you’re feeling.” She reached out and turned her granddaughter-in-law’s watery stare towards her own. “You know what an incredibly lucky mare you are. The way that mare loves you is…”

“I know,” Rarity whispered brokenly.

“And you love her the same way,” Granny Smith finished. “You owe it to her to not shut her out. Let her grieve with you. Let her help you. That’s all she wants. If you’re angry about something, tell her. She can’t make amends if you don’t, and it’s not fair to expect her to be able to.”

Granny Smith wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t told herself before, a thousand times over. But despite Granny’s insistence that she not feel ashamed, that she open up to Applejack in the way that she always had, she felt more ashamed than ever.

“You’re breaking her heart,” Granny finally whispered. “I hear her. Every night she sleeps out in the barn. My room is directly across from the barn, and I hear her cry herself to sleep almost every night.” Rarity lurched, looking like she might be sick. “I’m not saying this to guilt you,” Granny Smith said soothingly. “I’m saying this so that you can see that what you to have is worth fightin’ for. No one cries over each other the way you two have been unless there is an incredible amount of love between them.”

“I… I know I’ve been awful,” Rarity responded brokenly. “Not just to her, but to the girls, and you and my friends.” Her throat closed off completely and she dissolved into tears, burying her face into her hoofs.

Granny immediately drew her forward and into her, and Rarity gratefully flung her arms around the old mare. Granny Smith stroked her hair, soothing her until the storm passed, and when Rarity was finally able to regain enough control to speak again, her words were barely understandable, laced with agony.

“It’s like… it’s all gone,” she wept bitterly. “My will to do anything, show my wife how much I love her, be with my children, care about my life… it’s just gone! It’s like it left with… with the baby! And I’ve been so awful to her, a horrible friend and a horrible wife and a horrible lover, and she’s totally right to stay away because I pushed her there! But even though I pushed her there, I’m angry at her for staying away! How sick is that?!”

Her shoulders shook again with the force of her muted sobs, and Granny Smith very gently reached down and cradled her face in her hoofs. She tilted her gaze up to her own, softly whispering her name.

“There was nothing you could have done that night to prevent it. Nothing at all. It was completely beyond your control, and berating yourself over and over is not going to make that any less true.”

Rarity looked down shamefully, unable to concede the point. But Granny’s next words were like an arrow hitting the center of a target with expert precision:

“And there was nothing she could have done to prevent it either, or undo it.”

For a moment, Rarity felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. She whipped her head up at the elder mare, who was looking at her knowingly, and felt her face burn with shame and guilt. She had no idea how the other mare had deciphered her secret, her irrational blame towards her wife, the true reason she was staying away, but the knowledge was unbearable.

She knew denying the charge was futile, so she simply nodded, gazing down at the floor. When she spoke again, her voice was very suffocated.

“I miss her so much, Gran,” she confessed. Granny Smith sighed, drawing her back against her, offering tender comfort.

“I know, sweetheart,” she muttered. “She misses you, too.”

When Applejack cautiously stepped through the front door that evening, she steeled herself for the first interaction with her wife. Despite Rarity’s sunny disposition that morning as she’d left for work, she knew better than to count on that still being the case by the time she got home. It was starting to get to the point where she never knew at any given moment which Rarity she was going to get – and there were many to choose from these days.

So when she heard Rarity’s laughter tinkling from the living room, she instantly wilted in relief. The kids’ voices mixed with hers as Applejack rounded the corner and glanced into the room, bursting into a large grin at what she saw.

Rarity was seated on the rug with Topaz and Opal lying against her. Jasper was just off to the side on his blue blanket, playing with his soft toys and cooing to himself adorably.

Rarity was reading one of Topaz’s favorite books out loud to them, making sure to include all the silly voices, which her two oldest children seemed to find hilarious. When they would explode into a new burst of laughter together, Rarity’s smile seemed to light up the whole room.

She had just taken to tickling Opal, who was squealing and trying to writhe away from her but was laughing too hard to do so. She finally succeeded in pulling the filly into her lap, along with Topaz, and pressing an enthusiastic kiss to each rumpled head. Just then, Topaz noticed her mother standing in the doorway.

“Ma! You’re home! Oh, thank the goddesses, we can finally eat!” She bounded up out of her mother’s lap and threw her forelegs around one of Applejack’s forelegs in a massive hug. Applejack clutched her eldest daughter to her, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head just as Opal finally managed to extricate herself from her mother’s hold and go running to latch onto her leg.

“Mom said you were going to be home for dinner tonight so we waited for you, Mommy,” she chirped, angling a toothy grin up at her. Applejack smiled back warmly and pressed a kiss to the filly’s forehead.

“I can’t wait, Little Gem. What are we having?”

“That vegetable rice pasta thing Mom does really good,” Topaz inserted.

“Really well,” Applejack corrected gently.

“Yeah, that. I’m gonna go set the table!” She bolted off to the dining room, Opal following hot on her heels.

“‘Paz, wait for me! You always get to set the table, I wanna do it tonight!”

Their bickering faded into the kitchen as she turned back to her wife, who had finally stood up and placed Jasper into his crib for a short nap before crossing the room to take Applejack into her arms. She enveloped her in a warm embrace, laying her cheek against Applejack’s cheek lovingly. Applejack’s eyebrows rose in delighted surprise, but despite her shock she returned the embrace with enthusiasm, pressing a kiss to her temple. Rarity had had her moments of good moods, but nothing even remotely close to this.

“You look happy,” she whispered into her hair. Rarity grinned.

“You’re home. I am happy,” she whispered back, tilting her gaze up to Applejack’s with a loving smile.

She was so encouraged by Rarity’s pleasant demeanor that she couldn’t resist dropping a kiss to her lips. “I’m glad,” she murmured. “I love seeing you happy.”

Rarity grabbed her left hoof in hers, pulling her out into the hallway to lead her down to the dining room. “You make me happy, Applejack.” She stopped, her gaze suddenly turning serious. “You know that, right?”

Truthfully, recently, there had been moments where Applejack didn’t know anymore. She also knew, deep down, that despite Rarity’s warmth at that particular second, it was probably a mistake to get her hopes up that it would last. But in that moment, looking at Rarity, standing there with her blue eyes so full of love for her, she found that she couldn’t stop herself. She felt hope blooming in her heart anyway.

“You make me happy too, Sugar,” she whispered, reaching up to cup her cheek. “More than anything in the world.”

Applejack rolled over onto her side, stirring her body into a long, languorous stretch, before gazing over expecting to find Rarity sound asleep next to her. However, when only a cold mattress and empty pillow greeted her instead, she immediately bolted upright, her stomach clenching.

Oh no. Please, no. Not again.

But she knew no amount of internal begging would change the reality she was absolutely certain to be the case. Tears of frustration burned in her eyes.

It didn’t make any sense! She had been fine when they’d gone to bed! She’d even snuggled up against Applejack and fallen asleep with her head on Applejack’s chest like she always used to do before. She had been so happy all day long! What could have possibly happened in her sleep? Had she dreamt about it?

She bolted from the bed and immediately crossed the room to where, sure enough, the bathroom door was closed. She could already hear sobs, gut-wrenching and racking, on the other side, and she reached for the knob frantically.

It wouldn’t open.

She froze, then tried again, this time with more force. The door remained closed. It was then that it hit her like a ton of bricks: the door wasn’t just jammed. It had been locked.

Rarity had locked it. Rarity had wanted to keep her out.

For a moment, for a few brief seconds, Applejack literally could not breathe. She felt as though she’d had the wind kicked out of her. Hearing Rarity’s sobs was bad enough; that she’d taken deliberate measures to shut Applejack out was excruciating.

“Rare,” she croaked, her voice trembling. “Sweetie, open the door. Please. Please open the door.”

No response. Just more sobs. She pounded on the thick wood, her voice taking on a frantic, desperate tone.

“Rarity, you’re scaring me! Please, open the door! Let me in!”

Rarity still did not answer. Her own tears began to fall now, of fear, of frustration, of hurt. She sank down onto her knees, now on the verge of a full-out panic attack.

“Sweetie,” she whispered, brokenly. “Please.” One word, so simple, yet holding so much, and all she could find within her to say.

The door remained shut.

“Is Mom staying home today?”

Applejack and Granny Smith traded a meaningful glance over the top of Topaz and Opal’s heads before Applejack forced a smile down at her daughter, placing a bowl of oatmeal in front of her.

“She is, hun,” she answered. “Mom… Mom isn’t feeling well today and needs to stay in bed, and there’s a lot of chores to do around the house.”

Opal looked skeptical. “Mom’s sick? She seemed fine yesterday.”

“I know, honey. She got sick during the night.” She felt a stab of guilt at her stretching of the truth, even though it wasn’t a total lie. Topaz scrutinized her from across the table, Rarity’s blue eyes narrowed in suspicion and confusion.

“Are you sick, Ma? Your eyes are all red and puffed up.”

Applejack froze, feeling her stomach dip at the realization that she hadn’t been very successful at all in hiding her shattered emotional state from her children. In hindsight, it wasn’t very realistic of her to expect being able to do so. She knew she looked horrific. After spending another half hour weeping and begging for Rarity to let her in to the bathroom, she’d finally given up and crawled back to bed.

Rarity didn’t emerge from her solitary confinement until a full two hours later, which Applejack knew because she was unable to sleep at all. It was obvious that Rarity had been waiting for her to fall back asleep to finally come out and come back to bed, in hopes of avoiding the inevitable confrontation. However, she hadn’t needed to worry. Despite the fact Applejack had been wide awake she remained turned away from her wife, her chest tight with rage, fury and despair. If Rarity wanted to be alone, wanted her away from her, then that was just fine. That was exactly what she would get.

They hadn’t spoken for the remainder of the night, and when Applejack finally gotten up to tend to the kids, Rarity lay in a pathetic lump on her side of the bed, looking pale and stricken, almost like a ghost. Jasper started to whimper for his morning feeding, and as Applejack scooped him up from his crib, she turned to look at her wife. Or at least, the shadow of her that remained in their bed.

“Rarity, Jasper’s hungry.” She winced at how the words had come out – much rougher and angrier than she’d intended. Rarity hadn’t responded, and despite every effort to arrest her rage, Applejack found that it augmented more and more with each passing second anyway.

“So that’s how this is going to be, now? He needs you. You’re going to just lie there and ignore him?”

Rarity curled herself tighter into a ball, shaking her head, and she whispered something, but Applejack could not hear her.

“And what about Topaz and Opal?” she pressed on. She knew she was only making it worse, knew she should stop, knew that she should give them both time to cool down and talk rationally later, but at that second she found she didn’t care about being rational. “You’re not going to come out and help me get them dressed and make them breakfast? You’re not going to kiss them goodbye? Tell them you love them?”

Rarity whispered again, and this time it was like something inside her snapped.

“I can’t hear you, Rarity.” Her retort was sharp and jarring, too harsh even to her own ears.

Rarity knew what she should say. But, just like always, the words were there and they were not budging.

I’m so sorry.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I hate myself for doing this to you.

“I said I’m sorry that I’m such a horrible burden,” she snapped back, loudly this time.

“I don’t want you to be sorry!” Applejack threw back immediately. “I want my wife back!”

There was an absolutely horrific silence, and Applejack’s vision began to swim with tears. Jasper’s cries became more strident, and Applejack closed her eyes, swallowing down the lump in her throat, and then took a deep breath, composing herself.

“I’ll give him a bottle,” she murmured gruffly, before turning and leaving Rarity there.

She remembered all this as she watched the kids scamper off to school with Granny Smith. Granny would be back soon to help with the washing and cleaning while she tended to the fields and the stables, but she suspected that her grandmother was well aware of what had happened and knew she needed some space.

Hours ticked by slowly, and the usually soothing work dragged on and on for her. None of her kicks had the power they usually did, and her distraction made even walking the fields to see how some of the slower-blooming trees were holding up, very nearly impossible.

Finally giving up, she loped back out of the fields and headed back into the house. Without even consciously making the decision to do so, she found herself heading back down the hallway towards their bedroom. When she stepped inside, Rarity still lay in a muddled heap under the blankets, almost entirely motionless. With a sigh of resignation, she sat down on the bed next to her, defeated, gazing down at the duvet.

Rarity started to cry, then, reaching over for her hoof. And despite all of her hurt, all of her anger, Applejack stretched out next to her to take her into her arms while she sobbed, for reasons she still did not know, and Rarity refused to tell her.